


Sometimes bad things happens

by orphan_account



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Angst, F/F, Hurt, M/M, Pain, bloody big ship, less comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond is on a mission, Q got kidnapped, R's going nuts of worry. </p><p>Everything could be nice but Mr. Q decided to get kidnapped and leave it to R and Bond to safe him (as best they could).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes bad things happens

**Author's Note:**

> my frist fic. It's going to be long. I think.  
> There can not be enough kidnapped!Q fics, or?
> 
> R is totaly free from. I mean, we need a R, or? I think this R is amazing (Eve likes R,too).  
> btw Q and R are something like best friends (sometimes Bond is jealous)

It was rainy, grey April Saturday morning. Bond could hear Q’s swearing (properly about some stuff Bond really didn’t care for).  
“Everything’s fine?” Bond shouted from his bed room. He was packing his suite case for a mission somewhere in Cambodia. Nothing special, usual stuff: find the head of the terror cell, get him (alive, if not, better than nothing), eliminate some of his henchmen (if necessary), don’t screw it up (note from M), buy stuff (special note from R), don’t get injured (very special note from Q). Usual stuff, indeed.  
“Yeah, yeah! All perfect…” Q answered.  
“Doesn’t sound like that!”  
“But it is…” Q barked “Anyway, just stuff you don’t care for. And- damn it!” Bond didn’t ask further. After nearly two years of relationship with Q he got used to the nature of the Quartermaster. Q started to complain about stuff (mostly something to do with his bloody coding stuff), Bond asked nicely, Q told him a) Bond wouldn’t care for it or b) Bond wouldn’t understand it. In the most cases it was a mix of A and B.

“Q, I’m leaving in-“ Bond stepped, dressed in a grey suit, in to his living room, looked at Q, who was lying on his back, head against the armrest of Bond’s black leather couch, his right leg on the couch, the other on the coffee table, laptop on his cast, typing with his right hand, grapping dry fruit loops out from the packing, with his left hand, stuffing his mouth with the bad tasting stuff.  
Short: Q looked very cramped. “-you know, there is milk in the fridge and don’t start complaining when your back starts to hurt.”  
“I’m fine!” Q muttered.

Bond crouched next to his couch; put his chin on the armrest near to Q’s head so that he could nibble on Q’s left ear. Q moaned delighted and started to pet Bond’s soft hair.  
“Will my genius tell me what he is doing?” Bond whispered in to Q ear, looking on the screen of Q’s laptop. It was full with letters and numbers. “Is this important? Looks like that…”  
Q laughed bitterly. “No, not really. I’m just cheating at an online game. You know it’s-“  
“So - not important?”  
“Nah, unless I want to beat R in this-“ Bond closed Q’s laptop and put it on the coffee table “hey, I-“.  
“Shush!” Bond started to kiss Q’s neck, wrapping his arms from behind around Q’s torso.

Bond unbuttoned Q’s pyjama slowly. As Q tried to turn around so that he could face Band and kiss this gorgeous lips, Bond pressed him down on the couch again.  
“No, just relax” Bond purred into Q’s ear. The warm breath made Q shiver. Q bit his lips as Bonds hands move on his skin towards his pyjama bottoms, rubbing the waistband between his fingers before he pet over Q’s erection under the fabric of the purple pyjama bottoms.  
Q wanted to complain, that Bond should stop teasing and get his pant of as-

“Fuck.” Bond hissed, starring on the Felix the cat –clock (Birthday present form R).  
“What?” Q groaned, following Bond’s look. “No, don’t tell me-“  
“I’m sorry love, but duty calls. And I need to get this flight. You know, the world peace depends on it!” Bond joked, got up and took his stuff.  
“You can’t leave me like that!” Q sounded like a wounded animal and rise from the couch, run after Bond who pulled on his coat. “I need my sugar!” He told him with a smirk. Bond looked at Q with faltering pity and gave him a deep kiss as compensation.  
“I’m back in two weeks or so. Don’t do anything stupid!”  
“Yeah, you too.” Q kissed Bond again as goodbye.  
“I’m really sorry” Bond muttered into the kiss. “See you soon!” Bond dashed out of the door.  
Q looked after him in the hallway and shouted “Bye”.  
As he was left alone in Bond’s flat he took a very cold shower and swore as the cold water hit on his skin.

Q hated it to be alone in Bond’s flat. Everything was too cold without him. So he took his laptop and his other belongings and got back this his own flat.  
It was tiny compared with Bond’s flat but here he had his beloved battered, vintage, leather couch, so much more Earl Grey and his game consoles.

At home he made himself a pot of tea and switched his TV on. He moaned enervated about the noon program, so he put on Doctor Who.  
This weekend would be so boring: Nothing (like real weekend nothing) to do at MI6, R was somewhere in Scotland _(“Someone I should know died there. I have no clue who this is -or better was- but: duty and hey-free food!”_ ) and Eve had to do paper work. 


End file.
